


best served cold

by gamux



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamux/pseuds/gamux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And he thinks that this outcome is worse than the one where he dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	best served cold

It was a quiet morning on the compound. Birds sang from the trees, squids swam about in the quarry, zombies burned in the sunlight. Sips was still lying, snoring in his bed, half in and half out of the tangled mess of sheets. Sjin was already up and dressed, eager to get to work. He stood by Sips' bed and put his hands on his hips.

"Sips." He said sternly.

All he gained was an incoherent and most likely rude grumble in response as Sips gathered up his sheets and rolled over, away from Sjin, burrowing deeper into the warmth. With a sigh, Sjin grabbed the edge if the sheets and yanked them right off.

"What the hell, Sjin!" Sips whined, glaring at him with one sleepy eye.

"It's time to get up! We've still got work to do." He rummaged through Sips' chest, searching for the armour that he'd chucked in there last night. Sips grumbled again, peering at Sjin over his shoulder.

"Don't you think we've done enough already? We've got the power tower, all that lava, full nano armour! Have the girl guides even made their first cookie yet?"

"No," his solar helmet landed on the foot of his bed with a soft thump, "But that doesn't mean they've spent their time doing nothing. What if they're just as juiced up as us, maybe more? What if they ice us because we're actually woefully unprepared?"

"At least if we get killed I could finally get some rest and not have to listen to you complain all day."

Sjin frowned, pausing in his search for armour, a look of real hurt etched across his features.

"That's not very nice, Sips." He muttered, shuffling from one foot to the other.

Whether Sips was ignoring him or had already managed to fall asleep again he wasn't sure, but either way he got no response. Eyes downcast, search for armour abandoned, he gathered up his own things and left the building. Consulting the to-do list briefly, he headed to the far north of their border to work on the wall that enclosed them.

/\/\/\/\/\

It was around midday when he looked up from his work to check the position of the sun as it moved lazily across a sea of clear blue, and saw the figure flying far above him. He smiled to himself as he tracked the figure's movements for a while, thinking it was Sips, having decided to – finally - get up and start working, trying to discreetly check on him. He waved, a cheeky grin crossing his face as the figure hurriedly disappeared over a hill, appearing to drop down near the decoy headquarters they'd set up across from Honeydew Inc.

Soon the sun was dropping, nearly touching the horizon, sending a pale orange wash across the land. Sjin stood, half-covered by shadows, in the corner section of the wall, putting the last few blocks down. Finally finished he stepped back, admiring his handiwork. He was starting the second part of construction – digging away the dirt around the edges, inside and out – when a shadow fell over him. It took him a moment to realise that Sips had landed on the wall behind him. Digging up one last block he turned, giving a dramatic sweep of his arms, gesturing proudly to the completed wall.

"What do you think?" he asked, giving the wall a bit of a slap. "Nice and sturdy. Listen, if you help me dig this out tomorrow, we could-"

He looked at Sips properly for the first time since their argument that morning. But it wasn't Sips standing on the wall, staring him down.

Brown hair spiked back, a small light stripe on the left. Narrowed gray eyes flashing with unbridled malice. Beneath the mask Sjin knew those scarred lips were sneering at him. He held a red-matter sword in a white-knuckled grip.

Rythian.

"This wall of yours is pretty nice, Sjin." He mocked, running his free hand along the top of it. "Too bad it couldn't keep me out."

"W-What do you want, Rythian?" Sjin stammered, backing away.

"Revenge."

And he lunged. Sjin brought his shovel up just in time to avoid having his head chopped off. They struggled for a while, locked in a stalemate. Sjin gained the upper hand with a kick and took the opportunity to run. It was mere seconds before Rythian recovered and suddenly Sjin was tackled to the ground, the breath knocked from his lungs with a shocked, wheezing gasp. He felt the hot blade of the red-matter sword pulsate against the back of his neck and he swallowed hard, grasping desperately in the furthest reaches of his mind for some kind of plan.

Sips exited the sorting facility and rounded the corner, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey, Sjin, I wanted to apologi-"

He stopped, mouth still moving though no sound spilled from it, confused and angered by the scene in front of him. While he knew little of Sjin's conflict with the exile, he certainly knew trouble when he saw it, and this was trouble. With a split-second decision he raised the barrel of his mining laser to sit in line with Rythian's face and pulled the trigger several times.

While only a few shots connected, leaving his mask in tatters and one shoulder completely exposed, Rythian was still knocked back, slamming into the wall and falling in a heap. Sjin picked himself up, brushing the dirt off his spacesuit before rushing over to Sips and falling into his embrace. They stayed locked in each other's arms for a while, Sips whispering a constant stream of reassurance to the shaking form he cradled.

"Sips, please, we need to leave." Sjin looked up at him. "Now." He hissed through gritted teeth, tugging on the hand not threaded in his hair.

"No way, Sjin. If that chucklehead came looking for a fight he's found one!"

"Sips." He insisted, eyes wide and pleading.

Sips looked at him for a long time.

"...Fine." he eventually muttered, relaxing as he breathed out, arms dropping to his sides.

"You're not getting off that easily." Came a strained voice from behind them, a voice unearthly and dark.

They watched in horror as Rythian stood. The exposed flesh of his shoulder started smoking, an inky blackness spreading across it, disappearing under the remaining clothing, travelling up his neck to infect his face.

Sips opened his mouth but there was a fist in his jaw and he stumbled backwards. He managed to keep his balance, launching a fist in return as Rythian turned on Sjin. He landed a glancing blow to his cheek, the skin glowing slightly purple under his knuckles. Rythian scowled at him and lashed out again. Sips ducked, shoving the exile over with a full body slam.

"Sjin! Get your armour, get a weapon, I'll keep him busy!"

Sjin nodded, spinning on his heels and heading for the main house. While Sips' attention was diverted Rythian freed one of his arms, uppercutting the lumberjack. Sips' head snapped back, weight shifting so the other was able to push him over and turn the tables. He tried to make a break for it, to run after Sjin again, but Sips kept a tight grip on his arm, spitting every curse word he knew.

"Just a bit longer, Sips!" Sjin called, bracing himself against the power tower. "It needs a bit of juice." He heard them grunting in effort as they grappled, and guessed Sips was probably a bit preoccupied for a reply.

A sword suddenly whistled towards him, slicing through the power cable. He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. Then Rythian was above him, freeing the sword from the broken wires with a sharp tug. He stumbled backwards, falling over in his haste. He saw Sips roll over and groan, rubbing a bruise on his jaw.

Sjin kept retreating until he felt stone dig into his back. He groped uselessly at the walls of the sorting facility, searching for another exit as Rythian came ever closer. He tried to slide around the corner but Rythian's hand shot out and his fingers tightened around his throat, pulling him back towards him and even a few inches from the ground. Sjin clawed at the mage's hand but it had no effect. Rythian threw him roughly to the side, winding him again. He tried to crawl away but yet again Rythian stopped him, putting his foot on Sjin's, rolling and twisting it under his boot so if he escaped he would likely break his ankle in the process.

"What... What is this?" Sjin spat, coughing as Rythian rolled him over and kicked him in the stomach. "Some sort of sick, twisted game? Is my life a game to you?"

Rythian said nothing, instead grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking him painfully to his feet, before forcing him onto his knees. He pointed the sword at him, the sharpened tip glowing inches from his face. Sjin blinked beads of sweat from his eyes as he lowered his head, accepting his fate.

"Say goodbye, Sjin." Rythian said, smugly, proudly.

He cracked one eye open and looked at Sips, who was struggling to his feet, mouth agape in a silent scream for his friend.

"Goodbye, Sips." he whispered, smiling sadly.

He closed his eyes again and waited.

"I'm sorry, Sjin."

His eyes shot open. The tip of the sword still floated inches in front of his face, but this time... This time the rest of it was buried in Sips' chest.

Rythian withdrew his sword, angrily inspecting the red that coated it. Sips fell to his knees, unable to support himself, and Sjin caught him, wrapping his arms around Sips’ bleeding torso and hiding his face in the crook of his neck. He pulled back for another strike, but the sobbing mess Sjin had become changed his mind. He could kill him two times over this way. So he took to the skies and flew back to his base, leaving the two alone once again.

Sjin carefully laid Sips down, minding the gaping hole his chest now sported. He fretted, hands shaking, until Sips stilled them by taking them in his own. They were cold, Sjin noted. They were even colder when he moved them to cradle Sjin's face, bringing his head down to connect their lips. When he pulled away, Sips breathed out one last time before his eyes closed and his life left him, disappearing with the setting sun. Sjin let out a strangled sob and grabbed his hands again, squeezing, as though this might all be a trick and in just a moment Sips would squeeze back, sit up and laugh.

But there was nothing. Rythian had taken his revenge. He'd killed Sjin on the inside.


End file.
